Beautiful Distraction (18 page)

BOOK: Beautiful Distraction
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I don’t know how to react to it, so I just stare at him
while he strips off his shirt, jeans, and underwear—all in a matter of
seconds. The motion is so skillful, I can’t help but wonder how many times he’s
practiced it and with how many women.

The pang of jealousy is ridiculous when I’m not interested
in him emotionally whatsoever.

Instead of following the irritating thought, I look down and
almost choke on my breath.

Holy crap!

He’s huge. Way bigger than I remember. And so hard, I almost
come from just looking at him. No wonder he only does casual. With a cock like
that, he’s most certainly not short of eager women lining up at his door to get
a good tumble between the sheets.

Hell, I’ve just turned into one of them.

I have to force my eyes away. Looking anywhere else but his
hardness is good, and yet I keep stealing glances.

The tip is engorged, glistening with moisture. I watch him
slide his hand up and down its length.

“You keep looking at me, Ava. And you should. This is how
hard you make me, baby.”

I avert my eyes instantly, my already flushed cheeks
catching fire.

He caught me staring. Again.

“No,” I say, but the lie’s so obvious it’s embarrassing.

“Look at me,” he commands as he begins to stroke himself, up
and down, the gesture both intimate and familiar.

My tongue flicks across my lips.

“I want to help,” I whisper.

He groans but doesn’t take me up on the offer. “Say you want
me to fill you up.”

I shake my head. Maybe other women talk to him like that,
but I can’t.

“Tell me how much you want me inside you,” Kellan orders and
lets go of his shaft. He inches closer, and his fingers brush the inside of my
legs. His palm presses against my clitoris, the pressure unbearably hard and
frustrating. I arch my hips forward, silently begging him to enter me.

I draw a sharp breath as two fingers move between my legs,
settling against my mound.

“Is this what you want?” His fingers slide into me, filling
me up like they did last night. I nod and tilt my head back, closing my eyes in
the process. The pleasure is all consuming, frustratingly so because I won’t
come from it. I need more.

“It’s not enough.” My words are barely more than a whisper.

“Then say you want me to fill you.” His voice is rough, the
demand harsher than before. Through the lust-induced fog inside my brain, I can
recognize a pattern. Just like stripping for him, this is an order he expects
me to obey.

“I want you to fill me up,” I whisper.

“Tell me you want my cock inside you, fucking you so deep
you’ll feel it for a week,” Kellan says. “Now, look at me.” His fingers leave
my pussy and settle beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his heated gaze. “Say
it.”

Without his fingers inside me, I feel empty. I’m eager to
please him so we can finally get to the action. “I want to feel you for a
week.”

“Good girl.” He smiles, seemingly pleased.

For a moment, he releases me and fumbles with his jeans. I
look away, but the noise of a tearing foil wrapper is unmistakable. There’s
something dirty about the way I just stand there, bathed in glowing brightness,
waiting for a guy I barely know to pull on a condom.

I feel dirty. Surreal. Cheap.

And yet, I’m so turned on, I could make myself come within
seconds.

Kellan’s hand slides across my ass, cupping it, lifting me
up.

He takes my lip between his teeth and sucks it into his
mouth a moment before his cock plunges into me—all the way in. I flinch
at the jolt of pain that’s instantly replaced by a long wave of pleasure.

He’s too big. I don’t think I can take it.

“Kellan.” His name erupts from my lips in a moan.

“Yes, baby. We’ll take it slow.”

But there’s nothing slow about the way he thrusts deeper
inside me.

Another moan escapes my lips. I’ve never been so stretched.
The pleasure is almost unbearable. I should be moving my hips in unison with
his, but all I can do is claw at his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

Electric jolts course through me, bringing me higher and
higher to the edge.

“You’re so wet and tight,” Kellan growls, the sound almost
feral, strained.

He’s close. I can feel it from the way he twitches inside
me.

“I’ve been picturing me fucking you like this for months,” he
says.

That makes two of us.

His hand moves between my legs again and begins to caress my
clitoris in quick, circular strokes, the motion rough, demanding.

“Yes,” I gasp. My legs begin to shake from the effort of
having him inside me when he puts more pressure on my clitoris, the motion
sending me over the edge.

Kellan’s mouth stifles my cry before it can erupt out of my
chest while his cock continues to pump inside me, his heavy balls brushing my
entrance.

“Oh, God.” I reach that peak and close my eyes, my head
rolling backward. From the periphery of my mind, I can feel his one last thrust
and hear his own cry of release. At some point, he slides out of me, and his
arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close to him.

We remain silent as he’s holding me while my heartbeat
barely slows down.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sitting down, I draw the sunhat deeper over my face, not to
protect me against the warm sunrays, but to stop the wind from whipping my hair
against my skin.

“Is it always this windy?” I ask.

I’ve been in Montana for six days. The wind stopped only
once.

“No.” Kellan lets himself fall next to me. “It can also get
very cold. Winter’s always drawn out. Why? Do you miss the city already?” He
pulls his hat back and looks at me, a blade of grass between his teeth.

I look at the way he plays with it, the way he chews it
between his teeth, letting his tongue slide along the blade. The same tongue
that tortured and teased me. The same teeth that tugged at my earlobe. The same
mouth that aroused and turned my world from gray into an array of colors.

It’s been a nice vacation so far, probably the best in
years.

Correction.

It was the best I ever had.

He’s been inside me so many times I’m not sure I can walk
straight anymore. It’s surprising we managed to get as far as the lake.

Taking in the scenery before my eyes, I realize the walk was
worth it. The lake is vast; the water is silent and deep—much like
Kellan. I dread the moment I’ll have to go. That one last moment together when
it’ll be clear I’ll never see him again. Ever since Mandy left, I’ve been
counting the days, the hours, the minutes.

She’ll be back tomorrow.

My vacation’s drawing to an end.

“No,” I say slowly. “I don’t miss the city at all. I sure
don’t miss the stress.”

“Your job?”

“What?” I laugh and shake my head. “No.”

“What about your home?”

“God, no. My bedroom’s as small as a closet. It’s seriously
crammed. But if you’re talking about my family…” I shrug. “They’re constantly
traveling, barely calling. I rarely see them. I think it’s safe to say that I’m
closer to my neighbors. You?”

“Me?” His lips twitch. “What about me?”

“Do you miss the city?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, turning his eyes back to the
lake. “Not at all.”

“Not even your car?”

He shrugs. “Money can’t buy you everything.”

I nod and let out a small sigh. “Maybe, but money can make
your life easier. A
lot
easier.”

He remains silent for a while.

“That’s true,” he says at last. “But it doesn’t buy you
happiness, nor does it make your life less complicated, or less of a mess. It
sure hasn’t made mine.”

And here it is again—a hint of his past without
revealing too much.

But his tone is different, as though he wants to talk but
just can’t. As though opening up to someone doesn’t come easily to him, but
maybe, just maybe, he feels as though opening up to me may be a possibility in
the future.

The past few days, I’ve been wondering what’s happening to
him. It’s hard to believe that Kellan Boyd is the same man I met three months
ago. The arrogance is still here, and the confidence, and as before, he exudes
raw sex, but something is missing.

I cannot pinpoint what it is.

It’s as if one part of him died. But what part?

There is the cowboy, wild at heart, loving the country and
his family.

And there is the rich, superficial guy with the expensive
car, who is more concerned with sex and appearance than with human
relationships.

Who is he?

It’s the one question that keeps haunting me. Kellan keeps
denying that he’s involved with Club 69. He’s adamant that he’s a silent
shareholder and nothing more. I want to believe him, and yet I cannot. Because
I have no idea what he really does.

Sure, he seems to know how to take care of a farm, but I’m
not stupid enough to believe that a bit of livestock can earn him enough money
to buy a Lamborghini and wear tailored clothes.

Just like the lake in front of me, Kellan is still as much
of a mystery to me as the day I arrived, and I have no idea how to get to the
truth without being pushy.

I have tried to get him to open up by confiding things I
would never have told a stranger, like about my parents and their expectations
of me. I have tried to be patient—all to no avail.

He is a closed book, revealing little, if anything, while
asking questions about my life.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

I grow silent as I pry my eyes away from his stunning lips.
“Just life, you know. What you said about happiness.”

“It’s the country,” he whispers. “That’s why I love it here.
Everything is still. It’s as if time has stopped. Don’t you think?”

I turn to him, eyeing him again. “Yeah. It’s probably the
part I’ll miss the most.” I didn’t mean to be so honest, but the words are out
before I can stop them.

“Not me?” he asks, brows raised.

“No, not you.” I scowl and slap his arm playfully. “Obviously,
you’re a jerk.”

“Still?”

“Very much.” I nod. “Big time. I have yet to forgive you for
embarrassing me in front of your brother.”

He lets out a laugh. “Relax. Ryder told me you had a nice
body. That’s good feedback.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Not around here, it isn’t. We’re like one huge family.”

Maybe that part’s true, but I still don’t want my family to
walk in on me having the time of my life with a guy.

“You know what I don’t get?” I say, changing the subject.
“Back in NY, you were this huge pain in the ass, and here you’re this Texan
cowboy.”

“I’m a Montana cowboy. Don’t compare us.” He winks at me.
It’s hard to say whether he’s joking or really taking something so trivial
seriously.

“Why not?”

“Because we differ in too many ways. We talk differently. We
fuck differently. The weather around here is different. Don’t even get me
started on attitude and culture.”

This is the longest he’s talked. I don’t even care what
we’re talking about. I just like his sudden openness; the fact that he lets me
glimpse into his soul.

“Give me an example,” I say, eager to prolong our
conversation for as long as I can.

“Let me think.” Kellan pauses for a moment, thinking. “You
can legally toke up in Montana, but if you try that in Texas, you’ll get your
ass thrown in jail.”

“That’s about the most useless piece of information I’ve
ever heard.” I grin at him. “What else?”

“People don’t seem to care about keeping up with the
Joneses. They just keep to themselves. You’ll notice the pace here is slower.
We’re a close-knit community. We stick together. People are more down to earth.
In so many ways, I think Texas has lost what Montana still has.”

“Is that the reason why you’re back?” I ask gently.

He peers at me, brows raised. “What makes you think I ever
lived elsewhere?”

I shrug. “Your chick magnet sports car?”

He stays silent for a few moments, then shrugs. “That
doesn’t say anything.”

He’s evading giving me an answer again.

“This is where I was born; where I grew up. It’s hard to get
the same feeling elsewhere,” Kellan says.

 
“What feeling?”
I follow his line of vision. He’s staring out at the lake now. It’s so serene
and quiet. Except for the birds and the soft rustling of leaves, nothing stirs.

“Home,” he says. “The vast space. The air. The people. My
happiest memories are here.” He turns to regard me again, his green gaze dark
and hooded, filled with a past I wish I experienced with him. “Fun fact about
Montana: we have plenty of cowboys here, but most of them ride bikes instead of
horses.”

“Except you.” I smile.

“I prefer the old-fashioned way in everything.”

He’s drifting off again, expertly maneuvering my questions
so he avoids answering any of them. But I’ve never been one to give up easily.

“Because your family goes back generations?” I ask.

“You might be onto something.” He pulls me to him, and I
know in that moment that he’s done talking about himself. “Tell me, how are you
feeling?”

“Good,” I say, wondering where he’s heading.

He frowns. “Just good?”

“Yeah, good. I couldn’t be better.” I smile at him to convey
that yes, I like both his home and his company. “You’ve been asking me this
question every morning.”

 
“Because I like
to know I’ve left my woman satisfied.”

I laugh again. “You do. You’re a good host, but…”

“But what?”

“You promised to teach me to ride and you haven’t.”

“As far as I remember, we did plenty of riding.”

“Except horses.” In spite of the relaxed conversation, I
can’t help but feel a little melancholy. “All in all, I’m happy and satisfied.”

“Good.” Kellan moves his arm around me and pulls me to his
chest. “I’ve turned you into a country girl, then?”

“Fat chance. I still have a lot to learn.”

“Yeah? Like what.”

Like how to be what he wants and needs.

I shrug, as though my thoughts don’t matter. As though it
doesn’t matter that I wish we met under different circumstances, in a different
lifetime, with both of us ready for more than just a fling. “You still haven’t
shown me around,” I say, implementing my own change in subject.

“I’d be happy to give you the tour.”

Except I’m leaving tomorrow.

That reminds me we have less than twenty-four hours left.
We’ve barely spent a week together, and yet it feels like an eternity has
passed between us. Mandy was right. It feels like we’re an old couple. There’s
chemistry, and yet there’s no safety net.

I’m
falling with
no safety net.

I don’t know what’s worse. Falling in love with a beautiful
cowboy I’ll never see again or falling in love with a jerk I know will break my
heart.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Both outcomes suck big time.

We stay silent for a few minutes.

Kellan resumes the conversation first. “Why don’t you move
here?”

His question takes me by surprise. I look up to search his
green eyes. He averts his gaze as though he doesn’t mind saying the words but
he doesn’t want me to look into his soul while he says them.

“We could escape the madness of the past. Leave everything
behind,” he adds. “We’d have all the time in the world. I could teach you
everything you want to know.”

I straighten, my heart thumping harder in my chest. “Do you
want me to stay?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think it’s bad here. And frankly, I
think there’s a country girl somewhere inside you. I think deep down you want
to help me with the farm.”

He must be joking.

Stupid, crazy hope.

For a moment, I really thought—

I shake my head, my mood suddenly plummeting to a new low in
my life. “You wouldn’t pay me for my hard work.”

“Probably not. That’s because I already pay people to do
most of the farm work.” He sighs. “But I’m a great cook, can offer you a warm
bed, and let’s not forget, I’ll always make sure you come first.”

“Wow.” I grin at him. “You’re extremely generous.”

“Or a good host,” he says, his expression sober.

I give him a little shove. He laughs and lies back,
squeezing his hands beneath his head. For a moment, I consider snuggling
against his chest, but decide against it.

We stay silent.

The sky above us is a clear blue. Not a single cloud. Lying
back, I close my eyes and relax, soaking in the warm rays, the wind softly
caressing my skin.

“Will you miss me?”

His question knocks all air out of my lungs.

I turn my head to him and find that he’s pulled his cowboy
hat over his face. The corner of his mouth tugs up. It’s only thing I can make
out, the only thing that gives away this isn’t as serious to him as it is to
me.

“I guess so.” A hint of sadness seeps into my voice.

“Good.” His lips twitch. “When you leave me, I want to be in
your mind for a long time.”

You’re already in my
mind and I haven’t even left yet.

There’s no way we can feel so much attraction and have
worlds separate us, and yet it’s happening.

Kellan draws his hat back. “You’re awfully silent.”

I avoid his eyes as my glance turns back to the lake.

“I’m just thinking how beautiful this place is. That’s all.”

That isn’t even a lie. This place is beautiful, but it wouldn’t
hold my heart if it weren’t for him.

He props up on his elbow, towering over me and shielding my
face from the sun. And then he leans into me to steal the kind of kiss that
makes me rip off his clothes, the kind that makes me forget we’re not a couple.

We’ll never be.

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